


Second Life

by KuraraOkumura



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts, M/M, Marauder Hermione, Marauders' Era, Seventh year, Time-turner fanfic, Werewolf Hermione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1764253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraraOkumura/pseuds/KuraraOkumura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War is lost. Harry Potter is dead. Hermione Granger is bitten by Greyback, and her time turner goes awry. When she wakes up with no memories of her past, in front of a pale eyed blonde boy who calls himself a werewolf - and her with it -, she is given the chance at a new life - however dark that life might be. But the Darkness inside Hogwarts in the Marauders' Era is not what it first seems to be...<br/>A time-turner fic in which Hermione is a Werewolf, and makes more friends than she expected. Oh, and Dumbledore meddles. What did you expect? ;P<br/>Rating will go up to E in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, please like my fan page KuraraOkumura's Disciples on facebook! :D

Chapter 1: The Beginning

* * *

 

Fenrir Greyback closed in on her, his eyes never leaving hers. The hatred so obvious in them was enough to make her cringe, and when he laid a hand on the small of her back and pulled her up to him, she let out a shaky breath. The werewolf laughed, his teeth teasing the skin of her neck mercilessly, his hands no longer on her back and roaming too low on her body for her not to care. She pounded weakly at his chest, but the man never budged, and she whined as his hands squeezed both her butt cheeks and he pulled her firm against him.  

"Funny," he whispered, his head buried in her neck, ignoring the shiver of disgust that was rocking through her, "that the Lord would offer you to me like this." A throaty gruff that she assumed was a laugh brushed against the skin of her neck, and again disgust took her over and she pushed at his large shoulders - to no avail. "Merlin knows I've been feeling lonely lately."  

 _Calm down Hermione._ The Witch took a deep breath, trying hard to resist the sudden urge to pound against him with everything she had and get him the _hell_ off her. _Come on. You're supposed to be the brightest Witch of your age. Act like it!_   

She groaned as Greyback's hands slid along the back of her thighs, and she had no option but to hang on to his shoulders for dear life then, lest she want to fall back and crack her skull against the floor. At that moment that solution still seemed way more appealing than being groped by the werewolf, but she pushed the thought away, concentrating on remaining rock still as he felt her over her tight jeans. His hands under her thighs were tentative at first, then invasive as he brushed his fingers against her middle. Hermione shifted against him, inching herself up to try and escape his touch, but then he grew bold and cupped her with a hand. She gasped and reached down to pry his fingers off of her, painfully aware of the insistent throb of her center at his touch, and knowing full well that the bloody werewolf could _smell_ her arousal from a mile away.  

The beast looked up to meet her eyes, his own full of lust, his mouth hanging slightly opened and his tongue resting on his bottom teeth. Seeing that look, Hermione's breathing quickened, and, taking a snap decision, she drew her head back and slammed it against his forehead. She fell to the floor as both their grips loosened and he shouted, more in anger than pain, holding his head and roaring like a mad man. She turned and ran, fear in her heart as she thought of what the others could possibly have been living after-

No. She couldn't think of it just yet. Her encounter with the werewolf had shaken her badly enough as it was. Her cheeks still burned with the tears that she had shed just hours before, her skin so tense over her cheekbones that she felt as if it would crackle any moment now. She drew in a shaky breath as she rushed through the castle, the building she had learned to consider home throughout the years. But Hogwarts was now more of a prison than a school, and the darkness that it had succumbed to was evident in the way the portraits remained silent around her.  

Hermione didn't like to think of where the surviving students were now. Not like she _could_ possibly think of anything besides the searing pain in her heart at the turn that the Battle of Hogwarts had taken. She couldn't remember anything past the moment when Bellatrix Lestrange had thrown a killing curse at her best friend's mother. Couldn't see past the death of those she loved. _Had_ loved. Her legs shook as she continued to run, and suddenly she was falling, her legs tangling over in a pile of limbs as she tumbled down a flight of stairs and finally lay at the bottom of the last step, unwilling to even try to stand. Her resolve failed her, but when she heard Greyback's roar of fury rock through the castle, she pulled herself upwards painfully, making a grab for her wand, surprised that it was still at her belt, that they had not taken it off her. And then she was standing, oblivious to the pain in her left knee and the angle at which it was bent, and by her side stood her best friend, his features a mixture of hatred and grief and pain as he held her up. Hermione gasped and lunged for him, flinging her arms around his neck in disbelief. Little did she notice his own disheveled state and his arm bent at an angle by his side, the bone of his lower arm protruding from the place where his elbow should have been.  

"Ron!" He gasped as she flushed him against her, holding her with his one good arm, and she drew back immediately, one hand on his shoulder as she took in his ruined arm. She pointed her wand instantly, old reflexes still strong, and whispered a spell that she knew would temporarily mend the bone. The redhead's face momentarily tensed before flushing in relief, and he relaxed significantly, though his wand arm remained tense. Then he took in her own state and repeated her spell on her leg, using his borrowed Goblin wand. They lay against each other for only seconds before parting. Their eyes met, and all the sadness in the world flowed between them.

Then a scowl darkened his features, and he took her hand and broke into a run, away from the echo of Greyback's roar. They ran breathlessly. They threw curse after curse over their shoulders at the dark wizard now running after them, and after only minutes they ran into Neville, then Luna, then Seamus and Dean, then Parvati and Cho, and soon the DA were complete. Four of them were missing, but all of them knew that these four would never come back. All of their faces were set into hard lines, their tear streaked faces masks of hatred and revenge.  

It was then, surrounded by those who had fought with her for years, that Hermione finally admitted what she hadn't wanted to. They had lost the War. Despite all their good will, the lives they had lost on the way, the pain they had gone through and the things they had done together - _Together_ , she thought bitterly -, they had lost the War.

Harry was dead. The Boy-Who-Lived lived no more, and all their hopes for a better future had hours before faded with his last breath.

* * *

The hall rang with the curses of the last two duels. Bellatrix Lestrange against Molly Weasley - and The-Boy-Who-Lived against You-Know-Who. Along the sides, all of them had grown silent, staring breathlessly as the four fought in the center. Flashes of green and red and white flew across the wide room. Wordless spell after wordless spell, counter curse after counter curse, the clashes and zaps of magic echoed against the walls, filling the silence effortlessly. Hogwarts herself was holding her breath.  

Then the horror-like creature in the center threw one last curse, a green hex that twisted in the air as would a snake. The oxygen in their lungs seemed to hang on to the moment, and a single second dragged on into eternity. The silence drew on as Voldemort's last hissed spell rang in their ears, and finally, the Unforgivable hit it's target, and Harry Potter's eyes came blank, and he fell to the floor without a sound, and Voldemort stared on at the Boy-Who-Lived, and those looking on still held their breaths. Then Bellatrix's shrill-pitched laugh filled all their minds, and she killed Molly Weasley without a backward glance, and finally the spectators began to believe, that their hero had fallen and that everything was done.  

Ginny rushed forward with a scream, her wand raised to continue what her mother had begun. Her red curse flew out to meet with Bellatrix's shield, and then the girl flew back into the crowd of students as a third green flash of light was sent her way. She lay motionless in Percy's arms, her wide brown eyes stared on without seeing, and a third Weasley fell that night. Ron ran to his brother's side, shouting for dear life at the death of the youngest Weasley, and would have run up to Bellatrix and her sickening satisfied smirk himself, had Remus Lupin not suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him backwards.  

The werewolf's body was rippling in quick cascades of violent shudders, a terrifying snarl painted all over his face. As he held on to a screaming Ron, he seemed to hold onto his own control with that strong grip. In that moment, Hermione stared at him as if she had never seen him, the fury on his face contorting his features into an unrecognizable snarl, and suddenly he hurled Ronald to the ground and strode forward, heading not for Bellatrix but for the man that stood out of his Lord's way, his face more animal than human. The two werewolves faced each other, their wands out and raised, and Bellatrix and Voldemort stood and gazed as creator and created faced each other - _finally_. The hall was still silent as they spoke, their minds still reeling from the deaths of three of their own in such a short time.

"Greyback," came Lupin's snarl. His teeth remained bared at the other werewolf, and in that moment he looked more like his animal self than he did the Professor who had taught them Defence Against the Dark Arts for a year.  

Fenrir Greyback gave a mocking bow, the corners of his mouth lifted in a sickening smile. "Remus," he offered, "how are you? Care to exchange a courtesy or two? No, I supposed you wouldn't," he added, his smile fading when he deflected Lupin's first curse. "Crucio!" He shouted instantly, and the man fell and writhed on the floor in pain under Greyback's mocking gaze. "You never did have much manners, Remus, despite your English origins. I suppose the British stereotype does not apply to you." He cut his curse short, striding back a few paces to allow the man to stand.

"Obscuro!" Lupin shouted.

"Deflecto!" Greyback countered, and the other man barely had time to put up a shield as his own spell came flying back in his face.

"Siego!" This time Remus Lupin hit target, and the other werewolf threw his head back as his back arched and his feet left the floor to hover in mid-air. The Death-Eater gritted his teeth as the tense on his spine increased, hissing in pain and willing himself to break the curse. Silently, Greyback managed to raise a trembling hand, and with a swipe of his wand threw a cutting hex at the other man. The Death-Eater fell to the floor as the other's spell withdrew, and cracked his back with a face at the man bleeding from a deep gash on his torso and on one knee in front of him. The dark mage raised his wand, and just as the magic began to buzz at it's tip, a shout erupted, causing him to stop.

"No!" Hermione yelled at him, striding forward a few steps and raising her own wand. "Stupefy!" The curse flew and hit a surprised werewolf, and she rushed to her Professor's side, sliding down to her knees beside him just as Bellatrix hissed at her.  

"Filthy Mudblood! You don't interfere in a Wizarding duel you ignorant little girl!"  

The woman stepped forward, about to throw a curse at the impudent, when Voldemort held out a hand in front of her, an amused look on his face as his werewolf lieutenant straightened from the young Witch's curse. Bellatrix smirked when she saw the look of pure fury on his face. She pulled back and watched as he raised his wand at the young Witch, his teeth pulled back over his face on a terrifying snarl. Then Lupin's head shot up, and he threw himself right in front of Hermione, and the green curse that had been aimed for the Golden girl hit him full in the chest, and Hermione threw her arms around him from behind and hugged him against her, crying out the last of her tears for the man who had saved her life once too often. And that night, Teddy Lupin lost both his parents.  

* * *

Hermione's leg was throbbing. Although Ron's magic had healed her, it was only temporary, and she knew all too well that her leg would go back to being broken in a matter of minutes, if not seconds.

In front of their group, five Death-Eaters, wands raised, were closing in on them. Three more were behind them, and two on each side. They weren't outnumbered, not yet, but nonetheless they had no chance of winning. None of them, except maybe for Luna, Neville and Hermione herself, were even remotely close to the power that Voldemort's minions possessed. Yet, even though they all knew this, all of their wands were raised. The determination she saw on the faces around her warmed Hermione. She wasn't foolish enough to hope to beat them, or even to hope for a fair fight, but she felt the need to fight for a good cause – _their_ cause.  

Then one of the Death-Eaters in front of her disappeared - Fenrir Greyback, she thought - and she looked around frantically to locate him. Parvati screamed behind her, and an arm suddenly slipped around her neck, and sharp teeth bit into her flesh. She screamed, her hands fighting the iron grip around her waist and head, and the venom began pouring into her system as the werewolf bit into her. Hermione Granger's eyes rolled back in her head as her friends around her fought curse after curse, unable to do more than defend themselves against the Death-Eaters that were moving in on them faster than they could handle. The venom burned through her, setting her veins and lungs and heart on fire, and she screamed louder, struggling against the searing pain inside her this time.  

Greyback held the young witch against him, a little shocked at the furious resistance that she was putting up when the venom should have sacked her strength nearly straight away. The transformation carved it's path right through her, turning her scream into something of a roar, and blood began oozing out of her nose and mouth and eyes as she fought still, and Greyback disapparated, bringing her with him into the room that she had managed to escape from. He lay her down on her back on the floor as she screamed and fought against him, straddling her hips and blocking her wrists either side of her head. For the first time in his long, long life, Fenrir felt concerned for one of his creations. He had never before transformed a woman, much less a Muggleborn or a Witch or Wizard as powerful as the girl in front of him was. Little had any of them known how much more powerful than her DADA teacher she was, but the very second her blood had started pouring down his throat, the taste of her magic had overwhelmed him. It had been so strong, so violent, that he had momentarily been able to _feel_ the core of her magical ability. And it had nearly knocked him off his feet. She herself had no idea how powerful she was. And as his venom turned her into one of his own, he had known that his decision had been the right one. He also knew, at this point, that it would prove nearly impossible to rein her in once she was a werewolf. She would be stronger than Remus Lupin had been, stronger than himself, perhaps. But for a while, her young werewolf self would be easily malleable. She would begin her werewolf life as one of his pack and no memory of her human past, and he would have to use that to his full ability.  

Under him, Hermione Granger's mind was reeling. She knew what was happening to her. She had known the moment the werewolf's teeth had raked her flesh and bit into her neck. But she had to stop it. She couldn't become a werewolf, not like this, not when they had just lost the War, not when so many of her friends were in danger of being killed by Voldemort. She arched her back off the floor even as Greyback's thighs held her down and the venom burned through her painfully, and finally freed a hand from the werewolf's grip. Her fingers flew to her chest, smashing hard on the tiny object nestled on its chain between her breasts. Her eyes rolled back, and she struggled to turn the disk inside the circular golden orb through her clothes, hardly noticing Greyback's hands over her own as he tried to stop her. She screamed one last time, and suddenly the time turner _exploded_ under her hand. The world began to move, and Hermione Granger lost consciousness.

* * *

She couldn't feel anything. The first thing that hit her when she woke was that she could not feel a thing. It was as if someone had cut all her appendices off and cut all the nerves that led from her senses to her nervous system. She wasn't even sure where she was until she picked up the courage to open her heavy lidded eyes and glanced up.

She was lying on her back, staring at a bunch of cobwebs grouped together on an old planked off ceiling. She drew in a quick, shaky breath, and suddenly the feelings came back - along with the pain. Her back arched off the cold, uneven floor as wave after wave of agony rippled over her, making her hiss through her teeth and moan loudly in an effort not to scream. And then she was screaming, couldn't hold it off any longer than she already had. It seemed as if molten lava was making its way through her body, down her every vein and up into her brain. Her bones ached, and she let out a long winding yell of pain as, one after the other, she felt her bones crack and stretch into entirely different shapes.  

How had she gotten here? She couldn't remember anything. She raked her mind for anything, any piece of information that might have told her how she had gotten here, but her head was a blank. Her hand snapped flat against the wooden floor, and she winced as a sharp stab of pain shot through her arm. Looking down, she saw pieces of glass and another, shinier material embedded in the flesh of her palm. _Gold **,**_ she realized with a start _. I have shards of gold in my hand!_ Another wave of pain raised her back from the floor, and her next scream vibrated and echoed through the entire...through wherever she was.

It was then that she became aware of another presence by her side. She was too weak to try and look beyond her eye range, but then she blinked and noticed two wide, pale blue eyes above her. When she saw those eyes, a strange emotion caused her frantic heart to skip a beat; a mixture of regret and relief. She didn't know where it came from, but at that moment another long wave of pain clawed at her senses. The eyes above her disappeared for a brief second, and then two hands were pushing down at her shoulders, blue orbs closer to her own than they had been before. They were wide, with surprise she thought, and then she heard a soothing voice into her ear, the boy's soft ash blond hair brushing her face.

"Hey, it's fine, I'm here now," the soft voice said, and she closed her eyes to drink it in. She arched against his hands involuntarily, and then she heard other voices above her own screams. She couldn't make out what they were saying or who was talking. Her vision had gone blurry, and it was all she could do not to scream her head off at every new second that made her agony longer. The boy's voice over her had gone from soothing to frantic, and then the gentle but firm weight on her shoulders vanished, only to be replaced by a more brutal one. Two bright blue eyes framed by long, black shaggy hair replaced the pale-eyed blond face, and then her eyes rolled into her head and she saw nothing more.

X

When she opened her eyes again, she was sore all over. Her cheek was burning, and when she reached up to touch it she traced a long winding gash down the side of her face and plunging down her neck and cleavage. Too shocked to do much more than prod, she didn't take in her surroundings for a while, but when she did a string tugged at her brain. She knew the place. She was in a small wooden room, dark wood, old, drafty and weathered. A single blacked out window filtered the rays of the sun, and the closed black door looked just as old as the rest of the room. The fact that she could remember nothing besides the fact that she somehow _knew_ this place, yet could not put a name on it, was disturbing. And then she remembered pale blue eyes over her own, a voice in her ear, - and the pain. The infinite, impossible pain.

She drew in a quick shaky breath.

"Are you okay?"  

Startled, she whipped her head to the side, taking in the teenage boy sprawled across a makeshift bed against the wall to her right. She instantly recognised the blond framed blue eyes. The boy's gentle face was covered in scars, across his cheeks, his forehead, one disappearing into the line of his hair after lining the entire left side of his face and tracing his earlobe. His smile was small but natural, soft and inviting. His eyes weren't the kind you'd expect on a boy his age; they were something else altogether, sparkling with age and wisdom, and a tiredness that moved her to her very core. The stirring of emotions that she had first experienced when meeting them did not return, but she felt drawn to him.

She stared into his eyes until she realized that he was waiting for an answer, and she looked away, embarrassed at having been caught staring at him. She cleared her throat to speak, but was taken by a fit of coughing. Instantly the boy was at her side, his hands on her forehead and arm and on one knee beside her exhausted form. He pulled her upright to a sitting position and helped her to lean against the wall behind her, never imposing or brutal but accompanying her movements. He placed a soothing hand on her back then and rubbed circles into her tense muscles, his concerned eyes hovering just above her hunched figure.  

"You okay?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. She concentrated on breathing in and out slowly, her chest heaving with every breath. Her mind was whirling with confusion; at where she was, how she'd gotten here, who was the boy beside her and why did he look so familiar, and, most importantly, _who was she_...

It was then that she realized that the boy's hand on her back was touching bare skin. She froze, staring helplessly down at the rough piece of dark cloth covering her nakedness, and immediately the hand on her back stilled and withdrew. She heard his frown as he spoke.

"I'm sorry. We didn't have anything else to cover you up when you changed back..."

Her head snapped up, whirling at the first thing she noticed in his words.

"We?" She grimaced a little, uncomfortable at the idea that someone else had seen her naked.  

"Me and one of the boys," he confirmed, his eyes looking carefully into hers as if confused by something.  

She blushed under his gaze. _Boys_ had seen her naked, she realized. She was turning her head away when something else he had said hit her. She stared at him, unabashed this time.

"Did you say, 'when you changed back'?" Her voice shook a little as she said the words.

The boy took a deep breath, blond bangs covering his right eye, and he sat beside her then, his gaze never leaving hers. He pulled his knees against his chest and rested his head on them. Then he reached out for her, and his fingertips brushed her forehead. Instinctively, she leaned into his gentle touch, and the half smile returned to his face as he watched her. Then his fingers slipped down her face, and she shivered as they slowly traced the new scar that started on her right cheek.

"I'm not going to ask you your name," he whispered suddenly, his fingers grazing the base of her neck where the scar disappeared into the dirt-coated blanket, "because I know that you won't remember it. I'm not going to ask you how you came to appear in the middle of the Shrieking Shack out of nowhere with a broken leg either, because I know that you won't be able to give me an answer. And I'm not going to ask you what you remember," he continued softly, and tears began leaking out of her eyes as she watched him," because I know for a fact that your most recent memories are from a few hours ago, and the first thing that you remember is pain, and the first person that you remember, is me." The thumb of his free hand wiped her tears away, and in that moment the young Witch could do little but lose herself in this boy's blue eyes. She opened her mouth, but his hand slid down and he stroked her bottom lip, stopping the words that had been about to cross her lips. "I know this, because we are the same. We're werewolves. And I also know that you were changed by that same werewolf who bit me years ago, because the smell on your bite," and he caressed the wider gash that she had not noticed on the other side of her neck," is the same as the one that was once on mine, and because, even though I know that you have not yet noticed it, our minds are linked. And I know that today was your first transformation, that you had just been bitten. That is why you cannot remember anything of your past."

She looked at him with wide eyes, unable to process completely what he'd just said.  

As much as she was afraid to, she couldn't help but admit to herself that she knew this boy was saying the truth. Something about the way he spoke to her, the way his eyes caressed hers as he spoke, and the way his fingertips felt right and natural on her skin, told her that he was saying the truth. That he would _never_ lie to her, no matter what.  

 _He's a werewolf,_ she thought. We _are werewolves._

"Why don't I remember anything?" she asked, the first sensed question she could think of.

"That's what the change does," he said. "You won't remember anything for a few weeks, and then you'll randomly start getting snippets of your past, starting with your name. That's what happened to me..." His voice drifted off and his eyes left hers, wandering into nothingness as his past came back to him. Without thinking, simply acting on her instinct, the Witch lifted a hand and brushed his bangs from his face, and held her fingers on his cheek then, enjoying the warmth of another human being by her side. They smiled at each other, tiny yet confident smiles, acting as if they had known each other forever.

She shifted, and groaned when the skin of her thighs brushed against her sensitive center.

_Whoa, wait, what? Sensitive center? Where'd that come from?_

She gasped, and her hand left the boy's face as she looked down at the makeshift blanket covering her. She gaped at herself, testing her soreness and making a heavy grimace when she felt the stickiness and stiffness between her thighs. She looked up, blushing when she met the boy's concerned gaze and tilted head.

"Hum," she tried, biting her bottom lip and blushing furiously, "did we, did our wolves, hum, you know, like..."

The boy looked confused for a moment, one eyebrow arched comically. He looked at her for a few seconds, raking his brain for what she could be talking about, before his eyes focused back on her.

"I'm sorry?" She buried her face on her hands, unable to look at him. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time at the ridiculous situation.

"I'm sore," she whispered, a little louder than she would have liked.

"Well that's completely normal," the boy mused, a little confused. "After all you _are_ after changing into a creature twice your size and back, if anything it would be abnormal for you-"

She shook her head vigorously, making a strangled sound halfway between a barked laugh and a sob.

"I didn't mean that," she said, her tone veering strangely off pitch.  

He waited for her to say something else, but when she didn't he finally noticed the way her legs were twitching uncomfortably. His eyes widened.

"Oh," he managed to say. " _Oh_."

He didn't move for a good minute, processing the fact that his wolf had laid a female wolf, and that that wolf was sitting in human form right in front of him now. And that she was drop dead gorgeous. He nearly chuckled, but caught himself when he realized that she must have been a virgin, that that was how she knew. He blanched, and jumped up when the full implications hit him. He facepalmed himself then, and was startled when he heard a deep chuckle coming from her. He looked down only to find the girl looking up at him, the side of her face still rested again her knees as she laughed. He smiled down at her, and held out a hand to her, all discomfort forgotten.

"I'm Remus," he said to her with a brilliant smile. "Remus Lupin, Werewolf at your service, ma'am." He bowed exaggeratedly in front of her, lowering his head to brush his lips against the back of her hand.

The Witch blushed and giggled before sitting up straight and announcing, in a boasting manner that reminded Remus of Sirius, "And I, haven't got a clue who I am!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione meets Sirius, and...well, Sirius happens.

Chapter 2

* * *

 

"We have to find you a name," Remus was saying. "If you're going to stay here we can hardly just call you 'you' until you get your memory back."

She giggled into the shirt that he had transfigured for her. They had agreed already that, since it would be the start of the year here at Hogwarts in a month, and she didn't know whether she had anywhere else to go to, they would go to the Headmaster as soon as the others' returned, and ask whether or not she could stay in Hogwarts, and perhaps become a student - at least until she could recover her memories.

They were still in the Shrieking Shack, the place where, she had learned, Remus went for his transformations in order to keep the rest of the school from harm. He told her about the other three boys, Sirius, the dark-haired she had seen the night before, James, and Peter, aka Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail. She laughed heartily when he told her _his_ nickname, Moony, and when asked where the other three had gotten theirs from, she was met with a surprisingly soft voice, and a nostalgia and love in his eyes that made her realize just how linked the four of them were. He explained to her that they were animagii, and at the word the girl found herself reeling with memories of books she didn't know she had read. Facts and researches about animagus spells and forms whirled around her head, filling her with so much knowledge that she wished she knew where it came from. She felt in her heart that she had known _someone_ who had been an animagus, though she couldn't put a face nor a name on the vague familiarity that caught her when she thought of it. She had pushed the thought aside for now though, and regained her hearted smile when Remus started joking about the contrast of Peter's form to the others'. And now here they were, discussing her entry into Hogwarts, and currently her name.

"What do you think of Starry? Or Sunny?" he was still saying. "Do you have any ideas?"

She gave him a bright smile, and said, "Not really. I never really thought about it to be honest. What about...Scarface?" She laughed then, unsure why exactly she found the idea funny, until she saw Remus tilt his head to the side and peer at her through his incredibly long lashes.

"Any reason why you find this funny?"

"I'm...not sure exactly..." She bit her lip, shuffling under his insistent gaze. "What?" she managed to say.

"Nothing," he mused, a corner of his mouth lifting slightly as he spoke, still watching her, an amused glint in his eyes. Then he turned his head to stare at his feet, a nostalgic look crossing his features, his smile still there, his eyelids drooping.

"What is it?" she said, her tiny laugh answering his mirth.

Remus chuckled, and said, "Stellar..." He looked back at her, his eyes sparkling. "That would be a cool name!" He grinned widely, and she laughed. "Stellar and Moony, the two most amazing werewolves around! What do you think? Is it not the coolest thing ever?"

He kept on grinning and watching her laugh and nod frantically with her hands over her mouth, setting his head back on his knees after a few moments. He closed his eyes, and her fingertips grazed the scar that ran across his forehead and cheek. Remus sighed contentedly, enjoying the feminine touch of skin-to-skin that so resembled his mother's.

"Remus," the girl whispered, and he shivered to hear his name falling so naturally from her lips.

He opened his eyes. The girl in front of him was beautiful. There was no way he could have denied that, had he even tried. The scar on her cheek was still swollen and red; though he had cast a cleansing and healing spell on it, he knew the scar would remain - just like his did; because a werewolf had made them. Her eyes were amber gold with specks of green, so wide that anyone would have gotten lost in them. Her hair was dirty, matted with blood, bushy and unruly, as was her face, but even then it only worked to give her a fierce look, as if she had been in a hundred and one battles and come out of them raging for more. Her face was shadowed in soot, blood and filth, but her fine, thin nose and full lips were enough to make it beautiful. As he stared, Remus resolved that Stellar was indeed the perfect name for her; her eyes seemed to shine with a thousand stars as she looked down into his own.

"Yeah," he whispered back at her, his eyes never leaving hers. "It'll be fine, don't worry. The boys will love you, and trust me when I say that, no matter what happens, you'll always be able to count me as a friend."

He gave her a smile, and the hesitation in her eyes slowly receded, giving way to such a limitless trust and relief that he knew, if he ever came too close to breaking it, he would be breaking _her_ with it. And he resolved never to do anything to betray her.

And something in her wide, doe like eyes made him feel like he'd made the right decision.

He stood to stretch then, and let loose a loud yawn that had her giggling all over again. He grinned, and she jumped up after him, grinning right back at him as if she hadn't just been made a werewolf and her possible hopes in life been ruined with it.

His heart fluttered a little, and he said, "So, Stellar it is, yeah?" He waggled his eyebrows at her comically, for now dismissing the gravity of the situation, and she laughed again. "At least until you remember your name!"

"Yes indeed!"

She beamed at him, and both of them turned to the sound of heavy boots pounding up the creaking stairs. Remus rolled his eyes at her.

"That would be Padfoot. Quite the unfit name if you want my thoughts on it!"

Her booming laugh startled said Marauder as he pushed open the creaky door, and he found the two of them standing, her wearing Muggle jeans and a white t-shirt that showed way too little of her cleavage to his liking, but was, fortunately, transparent enough that he could guess Remus hadn't told her about it. Sirius grinned and winked knowingly at his best friend, who blushed and hunched his shoulders when the girl put a hand on his arm. Sirius observed the girl as she laughed, too distracted to realize that the teenager standing in the doorway was giving her an overly appraising look that would have had her reeling had she met his eye that moment. The girl was thin, with a well-marked waist and long trailing legs that had his fingers twitching. The jeans were cut low, revealing a tiny bit of skin and a piece of white fabric from her knickers over her stomach as she laughed. Sirius' breath hitched briefly as he eyed that uncovered patch of milky skin, and he quickly averted his gaze. Meeting his friend's eyes, he jerked his dark curls towards the open door behind him, giving the girl a wink as Remus took her hand and led her through the door. Inwardly, Sirius growled. Remus had a few steps in advance with the witch that he would have to catch up on. The simple way she allowed him to touch her was enough to tell him just how many steps behind him he was.

Just as the witch was passing him out, Sirius took her hand, snatching it out of Remus' grip with a wink for his best friend. The Marauder bowed in front of her, bringing his lips to touch the back of her hand, a grin making his mouth twitch.

"Miss," he greeted her mockingly. "Sirius Black, your devoted vassal! May I enquire of your name?"

She laughed, and he grinned up at her winningly. Then she shot a look at Remus, and Sirius' eyes darkened when his friend nodded to her, as if she needed his permission.

She looked back at him then, squeezing the hand that held hers lightly.  "I'm Stellar." She laughed, and shared a knowing smile with the werewolf, leaving Sirius at a loss. "Or at least that is the name Remus gave me."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, straightening to shoot a look at his friend.

"The name he _gave_ you?"

"I can't remember mine," she whispered, avoiding his eyes.

She sounded almost guilty, embarrassed, Sirius realized.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, catching her chin in his fingers and gently getting her to look at him in the eyes. "It's not your fault that you can't remember anything. No one's blaming you, love."

The girl looked up at him, her eyes suddenly wide. As he watched, she lifted a hand, and her fingers hovered above his face, her pupils dilated with emotions he took to be realization and recognition. Sirius looked into her eyes, and blinked a couple of times when her hand began tracing his face, her lips parted just slightly and her free hand still in his, his stomach fluttering.

"Sirius," she whispered, and the look of complete amazement in her eyes was mesmerizing. "Sirius Black, son of Walburga Black, brother to... R. A. B. .... Regulus?"

Remus gasped and surged forward, yanking her from his friend and whirling her around to look at him.

"Are you remembering something??" he all but shouted into her flushed face.

Stellar nodded timidly. "I think so..." She closed her eyes, leaning forward until her forehead was pressed against the other werewolf's chin, and he held her up as her legs shook violently and then buckled. She grasped his forearms, gasping, eyes flashing opened as memories coursed through her. "Hermione," she said in a voice that wasn't hers.

Remus held her close to him as she struggled with the backlash of her memories. His mind was reeling. Why were her memories coming back to her so early? How had she known Sirius when he could see in his friend's eyes that he hadn't the faintest clue who she was? And why exactly had seeing him caused such a strong reaction in her? His heart caught, and Remus tried hard to ignore the pang of jealousy that gripped him. This was not the time. And the witch did _not_ belong to her. He had no right to be jealous.

Finally her breathing became calm again. Her chest heaved against his own, her body pressed flush against his, her head in his chest, his arms around her and hers around him. Trying not to show how much her closeness affected him, he squeezed her waist one last time, reluctantly pulling back from her and lifting her head up to look at him. He brushed the hair from her now sweaty forehead.

"You okay?" he breathed. She nodded, and opened her mouth, her lips quivering. His gaze lingered on them for a moment, and then he looked up, meeting her eyes.

"I... I remember my name," she whispered. "I think... I think I'm called Hermione. And," she continued just as he was about to speak, "I remember other things too. But it's confusing. Just - names. Impressions. Feelings." She frowned, and Remus thought that she was the cutest thing ever when she did that, her bottom lip protruding and quivering a little. "I remember..." She closed her eyes tightly. "Remus John Lupin, Sirius Orion Black, James... James Merlin Potter... and... Pettigrew..." She drew in a quick breath, her heartbeat turning frantic once again in his ears. He pressed his palm to her hot forehead, but she continued as if she hadn't noticed him. "Severus Snape, Lily Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Andromeda Tonks, Rubeus Hagrid, Minerva...McGonagall... I..." Then her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed on him.

Remus gasped as he held her up. She wasn't heavy, far from it, but she still smelled of him, he realized. Of blood, him - and sex. He closed his eyes tightly, struggling not to do something he knew he'd regret later. "Sirius," he hissed between gritted teeth, "take her. Now." His friend stepped forward to grab her, and Remus stumbled backwards, grabbing the doorframe for balance as he took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Bad idea. Her scent assaulted him, again and again; his eyes zeroed in on her, and he distinctly felt his lips curling back over his teeth, a snarl escaping him as he fought for control of his wolf.  "Moony."

He looked up, meeting his friend's startling blue eyes. Then his gaze drifted back down, hovering over the girl's - Hermione's - shapes. He took in the curve of her breasts, her thin waist and- Remus closed his eyes, taking an involuntary step forward. He felt himself hardening, the strain against his zipper slowly intensifying.

"Moony," Sirius said again. "Get a grip, mate! Snap out of it!"  He blinked, slowly. The grip he still had on the door frame tightened, and with a crack he was left with a chunk of wood in his hand. He looked down, blood oozing from the cuts that the splinters had made into his skin, dropping to the floor with sickening thuds that he knew were only audible to _his_ ears. He stepped back, shaking his head, holding his breath, avoiding to look at the unconscious girl that his best friend now had a tight grip on from behind. He turned, and all but ran for the door.

"Get her out of here," he snarled over his shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later."

And he disappeared over the frail balustrade of the downward steps.

* * *

He'd nearly hurt her.

He'd been close to losing it, and he knew that. Without Sirius there, he'd have fucked the girl senseless whether she'd liked it or not. He'd have ripped her clothes off and taken her again, regardless of anything else besides the need - the _lust_ \- that was still building up in his gut and coiling in his lower stomach. He'd been that close... He closed his eyes as images of what could have happened flew through his mind, relying on his heightened senses to direct himself and avoid obstacles as he ran. Once he was far enough into the Forbidden Forest, he stopped, placed his hands against the nearest tree, which was several feet thick, and braced himself. The tree shook, and as he gritted his teeth and pushed, his muscles bulging with the strain, beads of sweat popping on his brow, its roots ripped out of the earth. The tree groaned audibly as it fell back, and Remus himself uttered a long, winding shout as he pushed, the effort exhausting him and the wolf that was still raging for its fill inside of him.

Then finally he fell to his knees in front of the uprooted tree, the strain proving too much for him. He stared down at his hands helplessly, his gut clenching when he thought of how much control he'd lost back there, how much control he'd _allowed_ himself to lose. He remembered how frail she had looked in his arms, her thin structure, so light, so _vulnerable_ , that he had almost forgotten himself. Remus drew in a shaky breath. He steadied himself with the trunk of the half collapsed tree and stood slowly, bracing himself for the onslaught of memories and emotions that he knew was coming. Her name sang in his head endlessly – _Hermione, Hermione_... The way _his_ name had rolled off her tongue echoed inside him, and he found himself panting for breath as images of the girl flashed before his eyes. His fingers dug into the bark as he clenched his fists, and his already bruised and cut hands suffered a little more. The pain momentarily distracted him, and he whipped his head up to watch his fingers, buried deeply inside the trunk like it was butter. 

Then he remembered the scars he'd seen on her back, her chest, all over her, gashes cut deeply into her with repeated hexes. Scars given solely to inflict pain, to torture her, to break her. And he'd seen the word carved into her arm. _Mudblood_ , it had claimed. _Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood_. The word had rung in his head again and again. He'd clenched his fists and struggled not to break the hold he'd had on his wolf, fury mounting into him like a tidal wave threatening to flood his senses. Fury against those who had thought it funny to torture her, to _hurt_ her. To mark her like an animal, _like she was nothing more than cattle_ , a piece of meat led to _slaughter_. His gut had twisted as he watched her sleep, and he'd silently counted the scars on her body, snarls ripping through his teeth with every new one he found. Then he'd ran out the door and retched violently, sickened, disgusted and revolted at the knowledge of what she'd had to go through. The girl he'd named Stellar might not know who she was, where she came from, but now he, Remus Lupin, by some twisted will of fate, knew more about her than anyone else - including herself. He'd glamoured the scars to hide them from their very bearer, wanting in his heart to give Hermione a new chance at life. He did not want anyone judging her for something she did not even remember. Not anymore. Something that shouldn't have mattered either way, but that did. It wasn't fair, and he knew it. So he'd hidden all of her scars. He'd given her another chance, a second life, at least for the time being - until she recovered her memories. Because he was sure she would.

Remus sighed and closed his eyes, his grip on the bark loosening. His arms fell limp by his side, and he started walking.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione? Um, that's your name right?"

"I think so at least."

"Well... You know, the names you said back there, in the Shack... How did - I mean - huh..."

The girl looked up at him, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Yes?"

Sirius bit his lip before saying, "Bella, and Narcissa... Their name is Black. How did you know about their engagements? They're not even married yet."

Her brow furrowed, and her look became distant.  

"I don't even know who these people are, Sirius," she whispered, looking down at her feet as they walked. "I was just...saying the names that popped into my head. I don't know who they are, or even what they look like. All I know - is the names."

She looked away, wringing her hands together absently.  

"And," Sirius continued, "you said Andromeda _Tonks_? I don't know any magical family whose name is Tonks. I haven't heard of her being engaged.

His tone wasn't accusing, but made Hermione feel guilty nonetheless. She shrugged absently, trying hard not to look at him, her head turned away and fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Sirius stopped her then, whipping out an arm in front of her and effectively interrupting her strides. He stepped in front of her and took both her forearms in his hands, looking down at her carefully.

"Hermione, no one is blaming you."

She opened her mouth, but he placed a finger on her lips.

"Don't speak, please. Just let me finish. This isn't your fault. You appeared bruised and bloodied in the middle of the night, in a place you didn't know, with barely any memory of what could have been your past. You'd just been bitten by a werewolf, the same as Moony if I understood that correctly, and you had to go through your change almost immediately after your bite. Meaning that it was a hundred times more painful than it should have been. You don't know who you are. For some reason you know us, and other people besides. For some reason," he continued as she was about to speak again, "you know things that most of the people who aren't amnesiac don't, and you know the names of people that I'm fairly sure don't know you - for example myself. _But_ ," and he paused for a fraction of a second, emphasizing the word, "there is no way anyone is blaming you. I was stupid to ask you how you knew about my cousins' engagements, but don't you dare think that any of this is your fault, because it is most certainly not! Understood?"

The girl was looking up at him with wide eyes, arms limp by her side and no longer fidgeting. She watched him for a few more seconds before saying, "Thank you...Padfoot." And she threw her arms around his waist.

Taken aback, Sirius stood as stiff as a plank for a moment before catching himself and hugging her back. "You are welcome...Stellar." When she pulled away, he gave her a wide grin and started walking again.

"Come on now mysterious Witch!" And he playfully gave her ass a pinch, making her squeal and blush in surprise as she jumped. They both laughed, walking up the sentier from the Whomping Pillow to Hogwarts. Then Hermione halted abruptly, and, looking around, caused Sirius to stop and look at her curiously. "Did Peeves pinch you?"

She gave him an odd look. "Who's Peeves?"

"Peeves the Poltergeist. Our very own resident ghost."

Her eyes widened. "Ghost?" she squeaked weakly.

"We have loads of them," he taunted, amused at her horrified expression.

She closed her eyes forcefully, resting her head in her hands. "Fine," she said, her voice muffled by her hands. "Scare me all you want, Padfoot, after all I'm the werewolf."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously.

She raised her head suddenly to look at him, a mischievous grin on her face that had Sirius' heart skipping a beat. She looked way too much like a Marauder at that moment for him not to care.

"Werewolves are of the few creatures that can touch ghosts, even in human form." She winked at him playfully. "I'm sure if you'd only been paying attention to Binns' History of Magic you'd know that. Or if you'd even asked Remus. Not that I'd expect you to be listening at all!" Then she stopped talking, her eyes wide like she'd just grown a second head. Sirius was staring at her like she'd just used that head to fart, his eyes bulging out. "Did I just...?"

"I think you did," he confirmed, feeling slightly dazed. "We can now confirm without a doubt that you are a student at Hogwarts. Or were, at least. Old Binns has been teaching here for eons. Was there when the Dragon was still a Snake, I reckon."

"The Dragon?"

Sirius flashed a grin. "My dear old mum, Walburga Black! Be glad you won't ever have to meet her, my dear Stellar." He winked at her. "Unless, of course, you plan on accepting my marriage proposal. I'm afraid meeting my mother will then be required by protocol. Not that I give a Thestral's bullocks about protocol!"

Hermione wrinkled her nose distastefully. "You make my head hurt."

"I'll take that as a compliment, my dearest werewolf! Now what were you going to say when you started sniffing the air like a dog?"

She glared at him. "I was not sniffing like a dog!"

"Were so!"

"Was not!"

"Were!"

"Not!"

"Were!"

"Ugh!" She threw her hands up in despair. "Never mind! I don't know why I bother! There's no point in arguing with you, is there?"

He shook his head gravely. "Nope, there isn't. Now are you going to tell me or shall I pour some Veritaserum in your pumpkin juice?"

"Does it look like I have pumpkin juice on me?"

"No, why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Whatever. What I was going to say before you started talking about ghosts," she began, raising her eyebrows at him and daring him to interrupt her, "Remus is coming."

Sirius perked up immediately. "How do you know that?"

"I'm...not sure exactly. When I woke up, he said that...our minds were linked, that I hadn't realized it yet." She paused thoughtfully. "I think I know what he meant now. I can _feel_ him... I know he's coming." She looked back at the black-haired boy in front of her. "Sirius, what happened exactly back there? I don't remember anything after my...outburst." She grimaced slightly at the word.

"Moony had a little...fit, let's say," he mused, winking at her. "From what I understand, your little party last night had a lingering effect on him."

The girl blushed crimson, her eyes growing wide. "You...you know about that?"

His grin widened. "Course I do! I was there love!"

"Oh no, oh no," she began stammering, her head buried in her hands. "This is a nightmare, please, let me wake up!"

Sirius laughed as she hid her face from him. He stepped up to her and took her hands from her face gently, tipping her chin back to look at him.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "you could really have fallen on a worst shag than Remus. At least he's the kind to respect you. He's a good person, Hermione. He'll take care of you." He brushed the hair from her face delicately before releasing her, and she stood there, still, as he walked on ahead of her, allowing her time to think.

What had he meant? Did he really...see her and Remus as - some kind of a couple? She didn't remember doing anything with him, for Merlin's sake! Hell, she didn't even remember who she _was_! All she knew was that she was here, in a world not entirely her own, where she knew things she wasn't supposed to know, and had only remembered her own name in the middle of some kind of panic attack! She thought back then to the moment she'd met his eyes. He'd been right - he was the first thing she remembered. As if she'd just woken up a few hours before and the first thing she'd seen was him. His pale blue eyes, his thin face, his scars, his sandy, fine hair falling over his ears... Remus was her first memory. Her first anchor. The first tangible thing that could hold her afloat. Whereas the rest of this place didn't seem real to her, like she didn't belong there, Remus seemed...out of time. Though she didn't know him as such - after all she'd only just met him a few hours before -, she knew he was right when he'd said that they had a link. And, right now, that link was the only thing that held her afloat. And when she'd met his eyes for the first time, or at least what _seemed_ the first time, she'd felt like she belonged here. Like she'd known him all her life and had met him all over again a few hours ago.

They had a link, there was no doubt about that. And maybe the tingle of recognition she'd felt on seeing him was only because a part of her had recognised him as one of her people - as a werewolf, even though the conscious part of her brain had known nothing about it. She could feel his presence, sense when he was near, when he was looking for her. She knew that if she'd tried to find him, to go to him, she'd have walked right to wherever he was, even blindfolded. She knew he'd been thinking about her ever since she'd woken up in Sirius' arms, twenty minutes earlier. The nagging feeling at the back of her head had been enough of an indication. And now, she knew he was walking up to them. She knew he was still in the Forbidden Forest, where he'd been angry and had let his wolvish anger control him for a short length of time. During that time, his emotions had been enhanced. It was _his_ anger in the back of her head that had woken her up. _His_ emotions. His nearing presence even now was making her hands tingle. But Sirius' understatement...that they were a couple... Hermione shook her head, clutching her temples with her hands. No, she decided. Her and Remus were not a couple. She didn't know herself, and she certainly didn't know him enough. Not for that.  

And then she felt him nearing, and she whipped her head to the side, all thoughts of what she had just been pondering forgotten, and gave him the brightest and widest smile she could muster.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, please like my fan page KuraraOkumura's Disciples on facebook! :D


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